Trickey #12
When you are sure that the chimera is long gone, you approach the mound cautiously, lowering your head to inspect the edges, but you drawing back swiftly at the putrid stench, which rises when the pile is stirred with a cautious forepaw. It is nothing of interest at all and is merely the remains of the chimera’s last meal. There are shards of sun-bleached bone, tufts of fur and stinking flesh mixed in with what appears to be the creatures own dung: you wrinkle your nose and fight the urge to vomit. You almost turn to go before thinking that you really should inspect it more closely, as the chimera was trying to hide the mound from you earlier; maybe there is something valuable hidden underneath and the scraps of rotting flesh are a clever deterrent to discovery, whether intentional or accidental.
You paw through the mess, wishing even more for water with which to wash your now filthy paw clean of the filth, examining everything carefully. A small smile spreads across your face when a delicate object is revealed, covered with fine engravings that separate it from any old object: the desired key. It is gold, though its shine is dulled by the filth, and you extract it with a dewclaw, shaking your paw to rid it of the worst muck, even if the stench does not fade in the slightest.
One task left.
Written by Amethyst Mare on 12 July 2012
